


Friends and Family

by WayWardWonderer



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Acceptance, Bonding, Childhood, Death, Family, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Loss, Memories, Missing, Pain, Past, Rescue, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 22:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayWardWonderer/pseuds/WayWardWonderer
Summary: When Charlie Venkman goes missing in Alaska his only son, Peter Venkman, rushes off to search for him.  Egon Spengler, Ray Stantz, Winston Zeddemore and Janine Melnitz step up to support their colleague and friend during a very trying and life changing time in the young psychologist's life.





	Friends and Family

It was almost 3am when the phone inside the firehouse began to ring. Upstairs in the bunk room the four intrepid Ghostbusters were sound asleep, oblivious to the rest of the world. It was Dr. Peter Venkman who became aware of the phone ringing on the ground floor. Stirring from his sleep he sat up in his bed and looked around the room at his three sleeping colleagues, all of whom had remained undisturbed by the intrusive phone call.

"I'll get it, don't get up." He muttered to himself as he threw his legs over the edge of his bed and wandered over to the fire pole in the corner of the bunk room. Sliding down to the first floor he stumbled over to Janine's vacant desk. "We need to get an overnight receptionist." He decided as he took her chair and answered the phone. "Hello? Yes, this is-"

The voice on the other end of the phone was someone he had never met before. Introducing himself as a sheriff from the city of Fairbanks Alaska, the sheriff had some very unfortunate news to deliver to the sleepy psychologist.

"Yeah, Charlie Venkman is my father." Peter sounded tired but not surprised that authorities were contacting him about his conman of a father. "What has he-"

Peter listened intently as the sheriff explained the purpose of the call. His grip on the phone tightened nervously with each word he heard.

"No, no, I understand." Pressing a hand to his face Peter leaned heavily against the desk. "No, I can fly out and meet you. I'll... I'll get on the next flight out."

Providing a few more details Peter wrote down the sheriff's instructions and directions onto a small notepad that was sitting beside the phone.

"Yes, I... Thank you sir. I'll see you soon..." Hanging up the phone slowly Peter just leaned back in the chair and stared at nothing as the news about his father sank in heavily with an unexpected sorrow. "Dad... What did you do now?"

* * *

 

The next morning Winston Zeddemore awoke first and stretched out his shoulders as he stood up beside his bed. He noticed that Peter's bed was unmade and figured that the psychologist was already downstairs. Moving quietly out of the room so he didn't disturb his still sleeping colleagues Winston made his way toward the kitchen seeking a fresh cup of coffee.

Janine Melnitz had arrived only an hour before Winston woke up. She already had a pot of coffee brewing for the Ghostbusters to enjoy while she sat at her desk with a cup of tea and a stack of paperwork ready to be filed.

"Good ol' Janine." Winston complimented as he poured a cup of coffee. Strolling down to the first floor he greeted Janine and gathered the morning's newspaper sitting on the corner of her desk. "Good morning, Janine. Did Peter finish reading the paper already?"

"I don't know." Janine admitted as she sat down her pen. "I haven't seen him all morning, I thought he was still upstairs asleep."

"No, he's not up there." Winston tucked the newspaper under his arm and made his way back up to the rec room. "I bet he went out on an early morning snack-run or something."

Janine went back to her paperwork. As she reached for her pen she accidentally tipped over her cup of tea, sloshing the caramel colored liquid over her notepad and desk. "Oh, shoot!" She picked up the note pad and tossed it aside while she made her way to the kitchen to gather some paper towels. "A woman's work is never done..."

The smell of coffee had made its way into the bunk room and roused both Dr. Egon Spengler and Dr. Raymond Stantz from their slumber. Egon reached over and grabbed his glasses from the nearby nightstand and ran his hand through his thick hair.

"Coffee." Ray remarked as he let out a final sleepy yawn before getting out of bed. "I could use some."

"Pour me a cup." Egon requested as he climbed out of his bed and made his way toward the washroom. "I'll be down after a quick shower."

"No problem." Ray slowly walked into the adjoined rec room and its small kitchen. Pouring two cups of coffee, one for Egon and the second for himself, Ray wandered over to the couch and sat down next to Winston. Turning on the small TV Ray flipped through the channels to find the morning news. "Mornin' Winston."

"Hey Ray." Winston had been reading the newspaper when Ray arrived. "Have you seen Peter this morning?"

"Me? No."

"Strange. I haven't seen him and neither has Janine."

"Think he went out for some early morning breakfast?"

"I kind of figured something like that, but I just thought I'd check with you."

"No, I haven't seen him." Sipping the hot coffee carefully Ray thought about the last time he did see Peter. "After we finished that pizza last night we all went to bed at the same time. Last I saw he was sound asleep in his bed."

"Same." Winston folded up the newspaper and sat it down. "I didn't hear him get up this morning, I hope nothing is wrong."

Egon stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. Returning to the bunk room he opened up his footlocker at the end of his bed to retrieve his fresh clothes for the day. While gathering his clothing he noticed there was a sock awkwardly hanging out of Peter's own footlocker. Egon opened the lid of Peter's footlocker with the intent of tucking the rogue garment back inside, only to discover that much of Peter's wardrobe, as well as other personal items were seemingly missing.

"That's strange." Egon took stock of the missing items that were usually neatly contained inside the locker. "Peter never leaves his personal items out in the open. Where did they go?" Slamming down the lid of the footlocker Egon resumed getting dressed for the day. "More importantly, where did Peter go? Very strange."

Janine had just finished mopping up the spilled tea on her desk when Egon jogged down the stairs freshly dressed and over to the attentive receptionist to ask her about the whereabouts of the aloof Ghostbuster.

"Janine, have you seen Peter?"

"No, I haven't." She crossed her arms as she casually took her seat behind the desk. "Is there something going on?"

Egon was a little perplexed by Janine's reaction. "I don't understand. You sound concerned."

"Well, it's just that both you and Winston have asked me about Dr. Venkman, and it's not even noon! There has to be something going on! And if Peter Venkman is involved that can only mean trouble."

"Curious." Egon looked down at her desk as he fell into deep thought. "Where could he be? It's unlike him to behave so cryptically."

"I don't know." Janine replied dryly as she picked up the soggy notepad and laid it flat on a paper towel stretched out on her desk top. "But wherever he is I'm sure he's fine, and you'll hear all about it when he gets back."

"You're probably right." Arching an eyebrow Egon honed in on something interesting that was faded on the notebook's tea darkened page. "Hmm. Wait a minute," he picked up the warped notepad and held it at an angle using the overhead lights to distinguish the hollow markings as letters. "there was something recently written down on this notepad and it was in Peter's handwriting. The page was torn away but the indentations made by the pen pressing downward has passed through the top sheet down to the next."

"I don't remember seeing him use my notepad yesterday." Janine mentioned analytically. "Maybe something came up late last night."

"This makes things even stranger." Egon was easily able to read the removed message but it only added to the confusion. "Coordinates for some location in the North, the name of a person I do not know and a phone number."

"What's that all about?" Janine asked as her own curiosity was piqued.

"I'm not sure." Egon used a pencil from Janine's desk to fill in the lines of the paper to clarify the message and then grabbed the nearby phone. "But I am going to find out."

Ray had finished his coffee and taken a shower himself while Egon was downstairs on the phone. Winston had finished reading the newspaper and was now in the small kitchen cleaning up the used coffee mug and plates from the previous night. With a white apron wrapped around his waist Winston busied himself washing the dishes before the day really began.

"You know something Winston," Ray spoke up over the running water in the sink as he grabbed a towel to dry the washed dishes. "the last time Peter disappeared without a word, him, me and Egon were still in college together."

"Oh yeah?" Winston handed Ray another plate to dry. "Where'd he go?"

"Well, he ran off for a week and hid at his mother's house the whole time."

"...Can I ask why?" Winston turned off the running water and handed Ray the final plate to dry.

"Uh, well, his mother passed away. She was sick for a long time, through most of his later childhood. When she died he took it really hard."

"Aw man, I knew his mother was gone I just didn't know what happened."

"Yeah. It took me and Egon four days to find him and three more to bring him back to campus." Ray placed the dried plates in the cabinet and tossed the damp towel aside.

"Geez, didn't the Dean give him any time for bereavement?"

"Sure, of course he did. But Peter didn't want any pity or a bunch of people treating him like some kind of fragile flower, so he kept going to class and would only talk to me or to Egon when he was in the dorm."

"He bottled everything up? That doesn't sound good."

"It wasn't." Ray leaned back against the counter with the bleak memory fresh in his mind. "It was even worse when he went on a two day drinking binge and spent the next three days recovering from one beauty of a hangover."

"Ray," Winston could tell by Ray's tone of voice that the empathetic engineer was trying hint at something. "why are you telling me this? What's on your mind pal?"

"Winston, I think something bad has happened to Peter." Ray couldn't explain the gut instinct that was overcoming him, but thankfully there was never any reason for him to explain anything he ever felt. "I just wish he would've told at least one of us before he took off!"

From downstairs Egon's voice called out for his colleagues. "Hey guys, come down here for a minute!"

Ray gave Winston a worried look as he stood up straight from the counter. Winston untied the apron and threw it down on the counter as he and Ray and make their way down the stairs to join Egon on the first floor.

"What's up Egon?" Winston didn't like the stern look in Egon's eyes as he stared at the notepad gripped tightly in his hands. The fear in Janine's eyes only amplified the situation.

"I know where Peter has gone."

Ray wanted to feel relieved but too could see the seriousness in Egon's eyes. "Egon, what's going on?"

Adjusting his glasses Egon answered honestly if not a somewhat crass manner. "Peter has gone to Alaska in search of his father."

"His father?" Ray's concern mounted exponentially.

"I just got off the phone with the sheriff of the city of Fairbanks in Alaska. Charlie Venkman has been reported as a missing person."

* * *

Peter rushed from the small charter plane on the landing strip to the equally small airport in the distance. The seven hour flight was exhausting and the four time difference put Peter's internal clock at nine in the morning while the rest of the state was still asleep at five am. It was dark and will remain dark for an extended period of time as the extreme Northern locale would only permit the sun to shine for a few precious hours each day.

The harsh wind and cold blew mercilessly over the airport covering everything with a fine layer of snowy dust with ice crystals that glistened in the lights that illuminated the airstrip.

Walking inside the airport with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder Peter approached the counter and addressed the lone man overlooking the airport. "Hey, excuse me!" Snowflakes clung to his hair and clothing.

"How can I help ya' stranger?" The was friendly enough, but didn't seem like he was a man in charge.

"I was told I could meet the sheriff here, where can I find him?"

"Sheriff Grant ain't here, but his deputy is."

"Great, where is he?"

A feminine voice replied from a distance behind Peter. "She's right here."

Turning around Peter locked eyes with the blond young officer. "Nice timing." She was tall and slender, her blond hair cut short and her brown eyes warm with kindness.

"I'm Deputy Lily Hale. You must be Peter Venkman."

"DOCTOR Peter Venkman." Peter corrected her somewhat rudely as he took a step away from the desk, only to look back at the attendant one last time. "Thanks pal." Extending his hand to Lily to greet properly Peter quickened his pace. "Nice to meet you."

"I hope to be of some help." Hale shook his hand firmly and motioned with her free hand to her parked squad car on the other side of the airport. "Come with me, I'll drive you to the station and Sheriff Grant will give you all the details."

"Can you tell me anything now?"

"Only what was contained in the initial report." Opening the door to the car she slipped inside while Peter joined her in the passenger seat, snow fell from their clothing and melted on the warm interior. "And even that was pretty light."

"I'll take whatever you can give me." Peter tossed his bag to the floor at his feet. "What happened?"

"From what has been reported your father was one of twelve passengers on a cargo ship traveling down the Chena River. Severe weather caused delays in the ship's estimated arrival at port but after three days a search time went out to scour the river and that's when the ship was found partially sunk and wedged against the riverbank."

"Twelve passengers? What happened to the other eleven people and the crew?"

"The captain was found walking down river with six of the passengers. The other crew members were sitting with the remaining five passengers, who had been injured, near the sight of the wreck."

"And the only person who wasn't been accounted for is my father? How appropriate."

"I take it your father has a history of being on the road a lot."

"For as long as I've been alive." Peter looked out the window and admired the snowy mountains in the distance and the glowing town at the foot of the towering ice covered peaks. "The last time I saw him I..." Peter didn't finish his sentence. It seemed pointless to talk about his father seeing as the two weren't as close as a father and son should be. Peter felt like he barely knew his father and yet there he was over four thousand miles from home ready to search through an icy wilderness hoping to find him. "How much progress has been made since he was reported missing?"

"A small search party scouted the river ten miles in each direction," Hale explained as she pulled the car up to the front of the station to park the car. "they'll stay in the area for another twenty four hours before moving to another section."

Exiting the vehicle Peter glanced over the modest building that housed the Fairbanks Police Department and the Search And Rescue teams. "How long has my father been missing?"

"Officially?" Hale joined Peter beside the car. "Just under seventy-two hours."

"Seventy-two... That's three days!" Peter almost yelled in frustration, or was it anger? "Why'd you take so long to call me?"

"Dr. Venkman it took us some time to uncover any potential contact information about you." Hale replied calmly as she walked to the front door of the station. "We didn't delay on purpose or for a lack of trying."

"I'm... I'm sorry!" Peter felt himself blush at the outburst. "I know you're doing everything that you can. My father can be kind of... difficult."

"Relax Dr. Venkman, this isn't my first rodeo. You're not the first person to lash out at me, and you won't be the last." Walking into the station she lead the worried man over to the side office where Sheriff Grant was having a meeting with the head of Search and Rescue. "I can also assure you that we're doing everything possible to find your father. I have the utmost faith in these men."

Knocking on the opened door frame Hale addressed her commanding officer. "Sheriff? Dr. Peter Venkman is here."

Sheriff Hank Grant, a man in his fifties with gray hair shining through his previously brown hair that represented his many years on the force, stood from behind his desk and offered his hand to the newly arrived Ghostbuster. "Dr. Venkman, we spoke on the phone." Just like his deputy he too had kind, warm brown eyes. "I'm sorry we had to meet under the circumstances."

"So am I." Peter shook his hand as his eyes darted about the small office. Maps of the area were pinned to the walls with red pushpins marking off specific sections and black marker isolated one territory from another. "Has there been any progress?"

"Not much." Grant admitted solemnly. "But we're not giving up the search."

"How can I help?" Peter tore his gaze from the map, locking eyes with Grant. "Just name it, anything!"

Grant pondered the offer for a moment, running his hand over his chin as contemplated the aid of the younger determined man. "Do you have any experience in flying?"

"Sure!" Peter was quick to answer. "I can fly a small airplane."

"Great! Fresh eyes in the sky is sometimes all we need." Grant looked past Peter and to Hale who was still standing idle in the door frame. "Hale, can you make arrangements with the next search party? We'll need all the help we can get."

* * *

Janine sat behind her desk, bored, staring at the quiet phone sitting next to her stack of finished paperwork. A call had come in shortly after uncovering Peter's personal dilemma which forced the three remaining Ghostbusters to go about their business in the city. Normally Janine would covet the peace and quiet of the empty firehouse, but knowing that Peter was in Alaska, alone, searching for his missing father made the silence cruelly deafening.

"Come on, ring!" Janine sighed as she stared longingly at the phone. "Tell me something about what's going on! I hate being left in the dark..."

A loud crackle caught her ear as the C.B. radio tucked under the desk sounded off with Winston's voice. 'Janine, this is Winston in Ecto-1, do read?' His normally composed tone sounded tired and edgy as he spoke.

"Yeah Winston," Janine took her mic and clicked it on. "I can hear you loud and clear. What's going on?"

'This bust has turned into a double header, we'll be gone for at least three more hours. Has there been any update on Peter or his father?'

"No, sorry." Janine turned off the mic as she let out a somber sigh. "But if something does come up I'll contact you right away."

'Thanks Janine, we'll check in later.'

"I'll be waiting." Turning off the mic she clipped it back to its cradle atop the radio and resumed her longing stare at the phone. "I'll be waiting for you, too, Dr. Venkman."

* * *

Hale handed Peter a map with marked coordinates and landmarks of the selected search area. The paper map was well worn and wrinkled but the ink remained full without any fading or smudges. A few water stains from the falling snow marred the edges of the map but caused no significant damage.

The brief window of natural sunlight had begun to open and but would shut quickly in less than four hours. The snow glowed brightly in the natural light as the entire region flickered to life under the whiteness of the seemingly perpetual snowfall.

"Circle the area three times as slowly as you feel comfortable with," Hale instructed confidently as Peter and herself climbed inside the bright red airplane. "the snow will make it difficult to see the ground and if the wind picks up it'll be all the more difficult to pilot through the mountain range and over the trees. With each pass be sure to make contact with the team on the ground and update them on your progress."

"No problem, is the radio already set to the right frequency?" Peter asked as he placed the headset on over his ears.

"Yes, everything has been preset and tested. Everything is fully operational Dr. Venkman."

"Okay, thanks. And call me Peter."

"Remember, the snow and ice can cause problems if they build up. Don't stay out here for too long or you'll run into mechanical failure." Her voice was soft but still carried authority. "See you in a few hours, keep in touch."

"I will." Peter waited for Hale to exit the plane and secure the door behind her. As he flipped a few switches and turned over the ignition the plane roared to life. "Okay... I can do this!" Checking the flaps of the wings and examining each gauge display carefully Peter taxied the plane along the airstrip to begin take off. "Piloting a plane in a blizzard to look for Dad, not a big deal."

The plane pulled itself along the ground smoothly as Peter taxied to the end of the runway. The wind caused the light flakes of snow to swirl around gracefully, creating a thin wall that periodically obstructed his view for a few seconds at a time.

"Small blizzard, it's just a small blizzard. It'll be fine." The plane began racing down the airstrip and prepared for take off. "Never did learn to fly in a storm... no better time than the present!"

The plane soared nimbly into the cloudy sky overhead with its lone pilot at the controls. The search resumed for Charlie Venkman; lost somewhere alone in the icy tundra.

* * *

Ecto-1 returned to the firehouse after six hours on a bust. The three exhausted Ghostbusters looked almost defeated as Ray backed the car into the garage. Parking in the center of the garage the trio sat in their seats unsure of what they should be do next. Winston stared out the front windshield blankly while Ray fumbled with the keys in the ignition. Egon sat in the back and absentmindedly toyed with his PKE meter, unable to fully concentrate on his work.

The three friends were all thinking of one thing and one thing only: Peter.

"Guess I'll get the traps unloaded." Ray decided as he pulled the key out of the ignition. "Still can't believe it took us so long to catch three ghosts."

Winston opened his door and climbed out slowly and stood beside the car. "It would've been easier to take down three ghosts with four Ghostbusters."

"Not much of a fair fight," Ray remarked. "but you're right. We really could've used Peter's help out there today."

Egon climbed out of the car last, moving in total silence. Fumbling with the PKE meter he approached Janine's desk and the fiery receptionist who sat vigil beside the phone. From the look in her eye he knew that answer to the question before he even asked, but he had to ask it anyway. "Any word on Peter or his father?"

Shaking her head Janine answered negatively. "Nothing. The phone's been quiet ever since you guys went out on the bust."

"Right." Egon hadn't expected any other answer, his resonating with disappointment. "Thanks Janine, I'll be in my lab if anything does comes up."

Ray and Winston headed down into the basement with the traps and proton packs in tow. While Winston placed the proton packs in their appropriate charging stations Ray deposited the ghosts traps into the containment unit on the far wall.

"You think Peter's okay?" Winston asked in a lax tone. "I know he's only been gone for a few hours, but still..."

"I'm sure he's fine." Ray replied coolly as he put the second trap into the unit. "Peter has always had a little trouble with keeping in touch with friends went out on the road. And seeing as he's pretty preoccupied at the moment I wouldn't expect a phone call from him until he was already back in the city waiting for a ride from the airport."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Winston finished hooking up the packs to their chargers and joined Ray at the containment unit as the second third was being deposited. "I just hate that he went out there alone."

Ray pulled the final trap from the unit and set it aside with the other vacated traps. "So do I. And I know Egon doesn't like it either." With their work done all that remained was analyzing the data collected at the buts. "Come on, we better get upstairs and help Egon with the newest PKE samples."

"Good idea. I need something to keep my mind off of Peter alone in the Alaskan wilderness for a while."

* * *

The red airplane stood out boldly against the white backdrop of snow covered mountains and trees as it circled over the tundra and followed the flowing river miles below. Sporadically bright colors of red and yellow could be seen from the plane indicating the current locations of the search parties down below.

As the day wore on the snow and wind intensified in the dwindling light of the setting sun. The harsh weather made it extremely difficult to see, not to mention very hazardous to navigate from the air.

"Just one more pass, that's all I need." Peter decided as he turned on his radio to make contact with the search party on the ground one final time. "This is Peter Venkman aboard plane..." he struggled to remember the serial number of the plane despite having said it twice before already. "red. I'm in the red plane overheard. I've just completed-"

The engines of the plane suddenly sputtered as ice had begun to build up on the wings and inside the engine turbines causing power to fail inside the cockpit.

"Oh no," Peter checked his gauges as he struggled to keep the plane level. Thinking quickly he returned his focus to the radio. "Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! I've got engine failure! I'm going-"

Peter dropped the radio as he firmly gripped the controls and pulled back as hard as he could to pull the plane up and out of its nosedive. The engine's struggled and sputtered against the ice but failed to start. The plane was losing altitude quickly as it fell to the ground.

"Come on, come on!" Peter pleaded as he just barely managed to pull the plane's nose upward just enough to keep the plane gliding at a somewhat horizontal degree.

Tree tops were severed by the low flying aircraft as it sped over the tundra in a powerless rapid descent. Rocks and boulders were disturbed as the wings collided with the narrow stone passages and deep canyons that lined the forest. Thick tree branches were torn to shreds by the powerful propellers and the wings of the plane were ripped from the body as the unyielding mountainous terrain made firm contact as the plane itself sped by toward the snow covered earth.

Peter shut his eyes tight just seconds before the plan made contact with the ground, a horrific crash echoing loudly through the entire forest as the metal plane was twisted into a heap of carnage and ruin. A cloud of smoke and wisping snow wafted into the air as the forest became suddenly silenced after the crash.

* * *

Knocking on the lab door Ray pushed it open and looked in on Egon who was typing away at his computer keyboard. "Hey Egon, me and Winston just order some Chinese takeout, there's plenty in the kitchen if you're hungry."

"Thanks Ray, I'll be out in a while." Egon continued to hammer away at the keys without breaking eye contact with the monitor.

"You okay?"

His fingers froze over the keys for a second before typing once again. "I'm fine." Egon insisted as chronicled the day's newly collected data.

"No, there's something bothering you." Ray walked into the lab and sat on the stool beside Egon. "Is it Peter?"

"I'm certain Peter is fine."

"But you're still worried about him."

Egon stopped typing. "Yes." Prying his eyes from the monitor he locked eyes with Ray. "Peter has never been one to admit when he needs help, and I fear he's in desperate need of help at this moment."

"I know Peter and his father never really saw eye to eye, but Peter still cares about him. I mean, why else would be rush off to Alaska in the dead of night to try and find him?"

"Yes, Peter and his father have an emotional turmoil that must be mended, but that's not why I'm worried for Peter."

"Then... what's bothering you?"

"Charlie Venkman is a notorious conman. Whatever he's done while in Alaska is likely the reason for his sudden disappearance. I'm worried that Peter might be walking into a very dangerous situation."

Ray's eyes widened with thoughtful concern for his friend. "Peter's a smart guy, if something does happen I know he can find a way to get himself out of it."

"I hope you're right." Egon removed his glasses and pressed his forefingers to the bridge of his nose. "I just wish he'd call us. At this point any update would be greatly appreciated."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I don't think Janine has left her desk since this morning."

"Yes, Janine." Egon replaced his glasses. "Perhaps it would beneficial for us all to get something to eat and try to keep our mind off of Peter for a time."

"I think you're right, but I don't think Janine would be willing to leave her post just in case the phone rings."

Egon arched his eyebrow at the notion and quickly thought of a possible solution. "Then why don't we bring something to Janine?"

"Good idea." Ray spun around on the stool and faced the opened door. "I'll go help Winston get everything moved downstairs. I get the feeling that we'll be spending most of the night gathered around that phone anyway!"

* * *

A throbbing pain in his head roused Peter from the deep blackness that had consumed him. The acrid smell of black smoke and the sickly sweet taste of blood in his mouth told Peter that despite the catastrophic crash that he was in fact still alive. Opening his eyes the cracked displays of the gauges steadily came into focus.

"Ow... My head!" Peter had banged his head against the control panel upon impact with the ground.

The plane's emergency lights had illuminated the interior of the plane just enough for Peter to see his immediate surroundings.

Testing his fingers to see of they'd even move he slowly reached up and ran his hand down the back of his neck, silently hoping that he wouldn't discover a severe injury to his spine. Nothing appeared to be broken, dislocated or torn along his neck or shoulders. Sitting up carefully in his seat Peter looked forward and was greeted by the sight of gray stone that had broken through the cracked windshield.

"Crashed..." Peter muttered to himself, licking the blood from his lips as he spoke. "I crashed."

Mentally he took stock of his physical condition. The pain in his head was no doubt from impacting against the control panel during the crash, same for his split lip. His hand, arms and shoulders were sore but that was due to the physical strain from pulling on the control as opposed to an injury. As for his legs he couldn't really feel them, they weren't so much numb as they were simply in shock. His lower body endured most of the impact from the angle of the crash, but fortunately from all outward appearance there didn't seem to be any immediate harm to his being.

Reaching down he unfastened his seat belt, taking notice of the radio on the floor. "Probably busted, but I gotta' try anyway." Picking up the mic he tested the radio but couldn't hear anything crackling over the speaker. "Hello? This is Peter Venkman. I've crashed." No response, the radio was as silent as the mountains that surrounded him. "Hello? Anyone! I've crashed and need help!" Silence. "Great, just great..."

Tossing aside the radio Peter clumsily climbed over the wreckage of the plane's interior and made his way to the side door. Turning the handle the lock opened but the door itself was jammed. Pressing his shoulder firmly against the door he shoved his whole weight against it, HARD. The door popped open and Peter fell forward letting out a surprised yelp as his body collided with the snow and rocks outside.

"I already fell out of the sky, why did I have to fall out of the plane, too?" Peter whined as he lifted his snow covered face from the snow, taking in the expansive terrain he'd have to navigate on foot. The blood from his lips had smeared into the snow leaving behind a red trail. The blizzard had intensified throughout the day and was now nearing whiteout conditions. "I'd give anything for a snowmobile right about now."

Pushing himself up from the ground a sharp pain in his left knee caught him by surprise. Turning over from his front and onto his back he sat in the snow and ran his hands down his leg toward his knee. "Aw man," he retracted his grip as a searing pain in the inflamed joint rebelled against the touch. "I busted my knee!"

The thick denim of his blue jeans concealed the bleeding laceration that wrapped around his knee. Lifting a section of the torn fabric he eyed the deep cut that ran the length of knee down toward his calf.

"Must've gotten snagged on some debris or something..." He pressed his hands against the bleeding wound and help firm despite the pain telling him to let go. "Need to slow the bleeding." Thinking on his feet Peter reached down and grabbed a handful of snow and pressed into the laceration. The cold felt good as it provided some pain relief to the afflicted sight but watching the whiteness of the snow soak up the blood and turn red, melting from his body heat in the process, Peter realized that he was in trouble. "I can't stay here, I'll freeze if I don't find shelter."

Awkwardly Peter forced himself up to his feet. Limping back to the plane he leaned his head inside the opened door and scanned for any material or supplies he could use to survive until help arrived. The bitter wind howled in his ears, chilling his exposed hands and neck.

"Let's see... Broken radio, torn map, glass shards... and a flashlight." Sighing heavily he reached inside and retrieved the map and the flashlight. Testing the light he exhaled sharply in relief as the bright white beam shone through the dense foliage to guide his way. "Guess I can't afford to be picky right now. At least I can figure out where I am and try to figure out where to go!"

Eyeing the map under the flashlight beam Peter identified his current location. "So I'm about... Fifteen miles from the nearest ranger station and about... Twenty-six from the nearest town. Ranger station it is!"

As he began folding the map an interesting thought popped into his head. "But how will anyone else know where I went?" He stared at the map and at the blood stains left behind by his hand prints. "Guess I'll have to memorize the route and leave this here so they know which direction I walked." Using his blood as a morbid, natural ink he circled his current location and circled the nearest ranger station with his finger. Wiping his bloodied, cold hands off on his thick coat he took the gloves from his pockets and covered his hands in the warm material. "That's better."

Tucking the map back inside the plane, using the radio as a weight to hold it down, he turned and looked thoughtfully toward the increasingly darkening sky. "Dad... let's meet up somewhere along the way, huh?"

The search party had reconvened at the station at the designated time. The failure to locate Charlie Venkman had left the bold members of the search party feeling glum, if not completely disappointed.

Deputy Hale had heard the distress call from Peter Venkman's plane just prior to crashing, she and other members of the search party had attempted to make contact with the downed aircraft but all radio channels were down, she had failed.

"Sheriff Grant," Hale greeted her superior as she entered the station with the other members of the search party. "I've been unable to make contact with Peter Venkman over the radio. Has anyone located the airplane yet?"

"No, not yet." Grant shook his head despondently. "It was a mistake to allow him to search alone. I should've sent someone with him."

"Sir, if he did have some else with him then there would be two missing people to look for, not one."

"We already have two missing men," Grant politely corrected his deputy. "both men are father and son, and we've failed to locate either one."

"What's our next move?"

"Form a new search party. We'll needed rested and able bodied personnel to traverse the tundra in this weather."

"Yes sir." Before she left to gather a new party she had one last question for her commanding officer. "Sir, is there anyone that should be notified of Peter Venkman's disappearance?"

Nodding Grant knew of someone he could inform. "Yes, earlier in the day after Dr. Venkman had been taken to the airport a colleague of his from New York had called, it seems that Dr. Venkman had left without telling his friends of the situation. Fortunately his colleague has informed me that he his in fact Dr. Venkman's emergency contact. I'll call him now, you form the search party."

"Yes sir." Hale promptly informed the returned search party members of their new dilemma.

"Dr. Egon Spengler," Grant looked down at the phone number that he had previously called when he had to tell Dr. Venkman about his father. "I'm certain that this is a phone call you hoped you'd never receive."

* * *

In the firehouse the three Ghostbusters had gathered around Janine's desk with their take out dinner in hand. Being in close contact with one another was a comforting feeling while Peter was unexpectedly away. Ray, Egon and Winston gathered on the very old, very worn out sofa that had been set up in the garage against the far wall while Janine sat in the less worn out armchair beside the sofa.

"Thanks for gettin' dinner tonight, guys." Janine was grateful to have something to eat, even if it was greasier than her normal diet. "I had no idea that kung-pow chicken tasted so much better after dark."

"Try ordering a pizza at 2am," Ray joked as he popped open a can of soda. "for some reason it's always warmer and tastes like home cooking."

"I'll keep that in mind next time you guys are chasing down a hundred foot marshmallow man I'm stuck here overnight with the paperwork."

Winston leaned back into the couch comfortably as he propped his feet up on the small, stained and scratched table set up in front of the sofa. "Mention our names and you'll get a free order of bread sticks!"

Ray and Egon chuckled lightly at Winston's quip. It was nice to laugh again, it was just nice to have a quiet moment surrounded by good friends even if one of those friends was currently out of state.

Ray reached for a napkin on the table. "I wonder if-"

The phone on Janine's desk rang and everyone froze, staring intently at the red phone on the corner of the organized desk.

"I got it!" Janine set down her food and jogged over to the desk. She grabbed the phone from its cradle and held it to her ear. "Hello?" She answered before she even had the chance to sit down. "Yes, this is the Ghostbusters..."

The three men sagged back against the couch as they heard Janine speaking. "Must be another call." Ray decided as he set his food aside. "Now what?"

"Yes he is," Janine continued the conversation from her desk. "just one moment, I'll get him for you." Putting her hand over the speaker of the phone Janine lowered it from her lips as she called out for the requested Ghostbuster. "Egon, it's for you!"

Rising from the couch Egon crossed the room fairly quickly. "Did they give you a name?"

"Yeah, he says his name is Grant."

"Sheriff Grant!" Egon hastened his pace and practically snatched the offered phone from Janine's hand. "Hello, this is Egon Spengler."

Winston and Ray casually gathered around Janine's desk as they listened in on the conversation, not that they were being nosy or enjoyed prying into other people's business. They were curious and knew the call revolved around Peter.

"I see..." Egon's voice lowered considerably as his face paled with worry. "No, I understand. Sheriff, I'd like to assist with the search. I know I can-" He paused as the sheriff interjected abruptly. "Yes, I'm aware of the potential consequences. Yes, I... Very well, I'll fly out as soon as I can. Thank you for calling."

As Egon hung up the phone Janine put her hand over top of his as his hand remained on the phone. "Egon, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Peter, he's..." Egon didn't want to break the bad news to his friends but he had no choice, they deserved to know the truth. "Peter has gone missing."

"What?!" Ray and Winston blurted in unison.

"Peter was a part of the search party, using an airplane to scan the area. His plane has apparently crashed and the search party cannot locate the wreckage or Peter himself."

"Oh my..." Janine's handed tightened with fear over Egon's.

"I'm going to fly out to Fairbanks and assist with the search.

"But Egon," Winston didn't agree with the decision, he refused to lose two friends, not if he could help it. "how can you find Peter if the other members of the search party can't? They have training and experience with this kind of thing, you don't!"

"No, but I do know Peter." Egon reminded everyone calmly. "And I have one piece of equipment that they don't."

Ray nodded in approval. "The PKE meter. You can use it to locate Peter's biorhythms."

"Correct."

"Then, we should all go!" Winston insisted firmly. "We can all help."

"No." Egon shook his head. "We can't leave the city unprotected. You and Ray must stay here."

Now it was Ray who was against Egon leaving. "But Egon, he's our friend, he's all alone out there! We have to help him!"

Winston put his hand on Ray's shoulder. "Exactly. That's why Egon has to go. As soon as Peter's found he won't be alone anymore. I know that if I was lost somewhere in the wilderness I wouldn't want anyone but you guys trying to find me. I trust you all with my life, just like Peter trusts us."

"But..." Ray hated splitting up the team but deep down he knew Winston and Egon were right. "Okay. Just promise that as soon as you find him you'll bring him back home to us!"

"I promise." Egon turned to his attention to the worrying receptionist. "Janine, I'll need a flight to Fairbanks Alaska. Please make the arrangements while I pack."

* * *

Using only his flashlight as a guide Peter limped through the encroaching darkness and snow, hoping that he was somehow still going in the right direction in spite of the blizzard's impressive attempt to blind him. The thick snow made movement slow and cumbersome, while the painful laceration to his knee made walking nearly impossible! Using a thick stick as a makeshift walking stick Peter wandered through the icy wilderness alone and in the dark.

"I hope the batteries h-hold out." Peter's teeth began to chatter from cold. The flashlight beam was losing intensity, not that it helped very much with piercing through the snowy walls that obstructed his path.

The searing pain in his leg only intensified with each forced step forward. Shifting as much weight as possible from his left leg and onto his right Peter trudged through the knee deep snow, losing his balance frequently as he stepped down into blind ditches and ruts that carved naturally through the forest floor.

"Dad... Where are y-you?" Peter spoke aloud to himself as a means of keeping awake and to make noise for any potential search and rescue party members in the area. "What w-were you even d-doing out here?"

Tried, cold, hungry and thirsty Peter pressed onward through the blizzard. He needed to find shelter fast.

Stopping to rest for a moment he scanned the area with the flashlight and noticed a small opening between to two large boulders. "Is that a c-cave?" He asked himself as he dared to explore the strange location. The opening was barely three feet wide and five feet tall, but it was secluded enough between the two massive rocks to avoid wind and snow.

"This... this will w-work." Peter ducked down and sat on the cold floor of the crude shelter. Turning off the flashlight he pocketed the item and pulled his arms inside the sleeves of his coat and wrapped around his chest. He was freezing and could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Pulling his knees up as close to his body as possible he huddled in a ball and tried to keep as warm as possible. "Dad... Did you even s-s-survive?"

Snow, ice and wind bombarded the entire forest while Peter struggled to endure the night and rest.

"Gotta' k-keep moving..." Peter told himself as he curled around himself as tight as possible to stave off the cold. "Gotta' f-find Dad..."

Pulling the flashlight out of his pocket he shined it forward and walked only where the beam indicated.

* * *

The long flight gave Egon adequate time to catch up on some reading, as well as educate himself on the landscape of Fairbanks and its surrounding wilderness. Bringing only several days worth of clothes, books and a PKE meter Egon was ready to immediately join in on the search for both Peter and Charlie Venkman.

Ray and Winston remained in New York to handle any and all busts, with Janine keeping vigil at the phone and radio to act as a link between the separated colleagues.

As the plane prepared for its descent Egon double checked the information provided to him by the airline and by Sheriff Grant. "Deputy Lily Hale." Egon read over the name and memorized it instantly. "I hope they can give me more information about Peter and his father."

Flying through the blizzard was dangerous, proving to be a difficult task for even the most seasoned of pilots. The entire plane shuddered as strong wing gusts and thick snow hindered what would normally be swift, smooth movements for the powerful aircraft.

Deputy Hale drove down the airstrip to await the newly arrived airplane's landing, and wait for the passengers to exit. The small size of the airport meant that the passengers had to board and depart by walking over the tarmac rather than board through a connecting tunnel way that bridged out between the airport and airplane.

Waiting outside the car she watched as the plane tentatively made contact with the runway and slowed to a stop on the snow and ice covered ground.

"Thank goodness they made it." Hale had been worried about any and all flights trying to either arrive or leave during the snowstorm. "The last thing we need is another downed airplane to search for."

The plane came to a stop and its propellers slowed as the engines powered down. The door of the plane opened and a flight of stairs was rolled up to the door and secured into place as the small group of passengers exited the plane.

Egon was one of the last passengers to walk off the plane. Using a black duffle bag as his luggage he carried the parcel in his hand at his side and stood aside at the bottom of the stairs. Looking across the landing strip he noticed the police car and a young woman standing beside it. "She must be the deputy."

"He must be Dr. Spengler." Hale realized as he glanced over at her. Approaching the tall, blonde man she asked his name. "Dr. Spengler?"

"Yes." Egon offered his hand to her. "You must be Deputy Hale. Has there been any updates since I last spoke to Sheriff Grant?"

"No, unfortunately." Hale motioned for Egon to accompany her to the car. "I'll explain everything on the way to the station."

"Good. The sooner the better." Egon agreed as he climbed inside the car. "I believe I can locate Peter as soon as we know where to begin searching."

* * *

Shivering violently Peter awoke from a less than restful slumber in the makeshift shelter. The snow had continued to fall while he slept and was now much deeper than it had been before. A layer of ice covered the top of the snow and created an incredible shine even in the darkness.

"Gotta' get up." Peter reluctantly unwrapped his arm from around his chest and placed them back into the sleeves of his coat. Pressing his hands against the cold rocks he balanced awkwardly as his tired legs were very stiff and the muscles so cramped that he could barely straighten the limbs out. "Come on, come on..." He grumbled as he finally stood upright, his bloodied knee and his head were still throbbing with incredible pain. "Can't... Can't stop." Peter told himself as he gingerly applied his weight to the affected limb. "I have to keep g-going." Tears formed in his eyes as the pain was almost unbearable. "I have to keep m-moving for Dad..."

Locating the long stick he had been using to help guide him through the forest Peter resumed trekking from where he had left off. The fresh snow filled in his previous tracks, but he was able to find the path had been walking with little difficulty.

"Just keep m-moving." He told himself as he remembered the map from the plane. "Need to keep h-heading this w-way... L-Long river in ab-bout twelve m-miles... R-Ranger stations on the other s-s-side..." He was shivering violently and his legs were aching for him to stop moving.

As physical exhaustion crept in and weighed down on his already taxed body he began to wheeze as he gasped for breath against the icy cold wind that blew against his chilled being. Using one arm to shield to face from the relentless gusts from the blizzard he continued moving forward while keeping his eye out for any sign of movement around him.

"Dad?" He called out instinctively, his voice practically muted by the howling wind. "Dad! Where are you? It's me! Please answer!" He coughed as the harsh wind hurt his throat. "Dad!"

Wandering through the forest lost and weak Peter continued to call out for his missing father. It had been four days since Charlie Venkman was reported missing, the odds of finding him alive were dwindling away fast.

* * *

"This is the area that Peter had been searching." Grant explained as he showed the marked map to Egon. "There was a radio report confirming that he finished circling the area for the third time before he went down." Pressing his finger down on the map he singled out a small section. "It's estimated that the wreckage should be about here."

"Has a search party been deployed?"

"Not yet. Our resources have been stretched thin due to the storm, our people are finishing a sweep of the river in search of Charlie Venkman and other possible passengers who may not have been reported."

"When will a search party be sent out to look for Peter?"

"As soon as you're ready. Deputy Hale will lead the party." He handed the map to Egon before crossing the room to pour himself a mug of fresh coffee.

"How many people will be involved?"

"Two." Grant poured himself a mug of coffee and poured a second for Egon.

"Two? As in Deputy Hale and myself?"

"That's right."

"I see."

Grant could see the disappointment in Egon's eyes. "Please don't take it personally son, like I said, resources are thin. We simply don't have the man power to spare at the moment."

"I understand. It it also illogical to exude all sources to locate two individuals. I appreciate the help that's being offered."

"We know." Grant handed Egon the cup of steaming coffee. "Drink this, it'll help keep you warm while you're out in the snow."

"Thank you."

"Deputy Hale is waiting for you outside. She'll be able to drive you out to the wreckage, hopefully you'll be able to locate your friend."

* * *

Peter's pace had slowed considerably as his body lost strength with every passing second he was forced to endure out in the wild. The bleeding on his head and his split lip had stopped hours ago, but the laceration that had practically crippled his knee continued to bleed steadily with each step taken. Coughing more and more as the brutal wind chilled him to the bone.

"Dad?" He called out hoarsely through the wind. "Dad, please, answer..."

As he stepped forward he felt his foot slid as it broke through the snow. A loud 'crack' echoed through the forest which caused Peter to pause and listen carefully. "What was that?"

Peter was now standing in a large clearing. A majority of the trees were behind him while more were seemingly miles ahead of him. "Strange." He observed at the lack of flora in his immediate vicinity.

Taking another step forward he felt his foot slide again as it passed through the snow. "What the...?" Using the stick he pressed down through the snow and cleared a patch away, revealing the slick surface beneath. "Ice!" Peter felt his heart start racing as he realized that he wasn't standing in a clearing, but on top of a frozen lake. "Uh-oh... Then that crack I heard was-" A second 'crack' echoed loudly as the ice splintered right before his eyes. "The ice is too thin for my weight."

Glancing back over his shoulder Peter looked at the relative safety of the snowy bank behind him compared to the long icy surface he'd have to cross to reach the bank on the other side.

"Go b-back or move f-forward?" Too tired to backtrack to the plane but too restless to give up the search for his father Peter decided to keep moving forward. "Too late to go back now, hold on Dad, I'm c-coming..."

With each meticulous step forward the ice splintered further in a massive spiderweb like design that threatened to shatter at a moment's notice. The freezing water beneath was like a dark abyss of death.

"Dad?" Peter shouted again, his voice reverberating loudly over the opened area. Loose stones from nearby rock hills began rolling down as an avalanche was entirely possible. "Oh... better k-keep it down." Peter noticed quickly. Concentrating on his balance more than anything else he stepped forward and used the flashlight to guide his way across the frozen lake.

"Don't worry Dad," Peter whispered to himself. "I won't l-leave without y-you. I pr-promise."

Riding on the back of the snowmobile Egon kept one hand on the PKE meter and his other arm wrapped around Deputy Hale's waist. The small vehicle easily navigated the terrain with the two members of the lone search party. Hale had grown up in Fairbanks and was very familiar with the forest. Easily winding down the unseen path toward the perceived wreckage location Hale honed in the scene of the crash.

Slowing the snowmobile to a stop Hale pointed up at the trees overhead. "See that?"

Egon struggled to see through the visor of his helmet but managed to follow her finger. "The tree tops have been damaged."

"Low flying aircraft." Hale decided. "Peter's plane must've gone down in this direction. Hang on!"

Egon tightened his grip around her waist as she sped down the trail following the carnage left in the wake of the crash. Downed branches and large stones littered the ground creating bumping obstacles along the forest floor. As the snowmobile neared the scene of the crash flecks of red paint and pieces of metal from the plane itself peppered the rocky ledges and trees.

The PKE meter in Egon's hand remained quiet, but the failed response wasn't enough to deter Egon. "He was here! I know it."

Heavy disturbances in the snow and ground made it too risky to drive the snowmobile any further. Stopping at the edge of the initial impact trail of the plane Hale and Egon traversed the rest of the way on foot. The headlights of the snowmobile illuminated the trail for a respectable distance while their smaller handheld flashlights guided them further.

"Watch your step," Hale cautioned. "the fresh snow is hiding deep grooves, I don't want you to fall and twist your ankle."

"Neither do I." Egon replied as he moved very carefully along the disturbed ground.

"There!" Hale called out as she spotted the twisted red plane body embedded in the snow. "Dr. Venkman! Can you hear me?"

Egon's eyes widened with fear when he caught sight of the downed aircraft. The metal frame of the plane was nothing more than a jagged chunk of red debris buried in the snow. The broken door of the plane was resting on the ground beside the body of the aircraft while faded foot prints in the snow wandered off away from the plane and into the forest.

Hale had climbed inside the plane and was looking around for any sign of Peter. "He's not here."

"Then he must've gone in search of help. At least we know he survived the impact."

"Wait a minute..." Hale noticed the map folded neatly under the radio. "I think he left us a trail to follow. Look at this."

Egon stared at the bloodied map as Hale unfolded it and smoothed it out as best as she could over the floor of the plane. "He was injured." The amount of blood was more than the average cut or bump. "But he was strong enough to keep moving and lucid enough to mark a trail."

"It looks Peter is trying to make his way over to the nearest ranger station."

"How far away is it?"

"About fifteen, sixteen miles to the east."

"Is it possible for him to make it on foot?"

"I doubt he'll make it across the river or the lake. But if he does so will we." Hale's radio began crackling on her belt. Answering the radio she handed the map to Egon. "This is Hale, I can read you loud and clear."

Egon studied the map and the dried blood with scientific precision. "The blood saturation appears to be very deep. He must've suffered a significant wound to a limb or appendage."

"I understand." Hale's voice lowered with disappointment. "We'll report back soon, we have a lead. Checking out the ranger station nearest our location, marked as-" She paused as the voice over the radio issued one last order. "Yes, I understand sir."

Egon took notice of her sudden change in demeanor and inquired appropriately. "Deputy Hale, what's happening?"

"The search party has returned to the station." She clipped her radio back to her belt, and kept her gaze from Egon's. "Come on, we better keep moving if we're going to find Peter."

"You're correct." Egon sensed that Hale was keeping something from him, but at the moment locating Peter was more important than any potential withheld information about another matter. Tucking the bloody map inside his coat pocket, the duo returned to the snowmobile. "Let's keep moving."

Peter couldn't take the pain anymore. Unable to walk another step his leg gave out and he collapsed on the surface of the frozen lake, the flashlight rolling away from his outstretched hand. Turning onto his side he wrapped his arms around his chest desperate to keep warm. Blood from his knee began pooling on the disturbed snow and turned everything it touched a sickly red.

"Dad..." Peter muttered as he became lightheaded. "I'm here, Dad."

The ice cracked loudly beneath Peter's prone body. Pieces of the frozen lake surface began to drift away loosely becoming partially submerged in the dangerously cold water.

"Dad... Where are you?" His breath escaped through his blue tinted lips and disappeared into nothingness. "You n-never did l-like to g-go ice f-fishing. Wish y-you wouldn't t-taken me at l-least once."

In the distance Peter's eyes caught sight of something white moving about on the far bank.

"Lights?" Peter lifted his head and stared intently at the quickly moving light darting around the trees. "Search party... Must be l-looking for D-Dad..."

Reaching out his arm toward his dropped flashlight Peter dragged himself along the icy surface, trying futilely to keep moving through the unforgiving wilderness. "I'm c-coming for you, D-Dad."

As Peter dragged himself across the ice with one hand, the other gripping tightly on the dimming flashlight, the sound of cracking ice and sloshing lake water filled the dark air. A trail of red followed Peter as the blood from his knee continued to pour from the deep laceration that had hindered his progress from minute one.

"Not going to qu-quit. Need t-to find, Dad..."

In the long hours it took Peter to trek through the forest the snowmobile traversed in a few short minutes. As Hale drove through the trees Egon kept his hand on the PKE meter and scanned the area waiting, hoping, for some kind of reading to screech across the display screen.

"According to the map the station is about eight miles out." Hale shouted over the engine of the snowmobile. "This forest has many lakes and rivers that pass through it, no man will be able to reach the station without having to cross over at least one in the process."

Egon kept his silence as he kept his focus on the meter. Just as he was about to turn off the device to save power it chirped in response to something.

"Wait, stop!" Egon instructed Hale, who promptly slowed down and came to a stop. "I now have a reading."

"A reading? For what?"

"This device has been programmed to locate Peter based solely on his unique biorhythm signature. He's near."

"Which direction?"

Egon waved the meter until it spiked in response. "Head East."

"East? There's a huge lake in the East, I hope Peter isn't too far ahead." Hale resumed the drive across the snowy tundra at a high speed. "When it snows this heavily the lakes are easily hidden."

Using the meter as their guide Egon instructed Hale in which direction to drive. Steep drops from snowdrifts, fallen branches and large rocks kept Hale on high alert as she swerved around the numerous natural obstructions. The blizzard had begun to weaken but the air was still painfully cold and the wind still blew harshly through the forest, as the rescuing duo continued to search for the missing Ghostbuster.

Peter lost his strength as the relentless cold cut through his skin. Unable to pull himself across the icy surface of the lake any further he stopped moving and rested his head atop his tired arm. Coughing from the intensely cold wind that stole away his warmth breath. The blood that flowed from his knee had slowed as hypothermia steadily set in.

"Dad..." He whispered pathetically, closing his eyes with little effort. "Where... are you...?" His body became heavy with fatigue as he settled in place on the ice.

A loud 'crack' emanated from the ice beneath Peter's body. The surface split and shifted into separate pieces that floated light over the water, becoming partially submerged as the uneven ice sheets collided with one another.

Cold water splashed against Peter's face as the ice broke away exposing the lake beneath.

"Dad..." Peter whispered again as his mind began to drift into a inviting darkness.

The ice shifted further apart from under Peter's body as he laid helpless near the tauntingly near the bank on the opposite side of the lake.

The snowmobile reached the edge of the frozen lake stirring up a cloud of snowy dust as it the powerful vehicle came to an abrupt stop. A path of disturbed snow lead outward across the lake, a red hue saturated in the trampled snow and ice for a considerable distance.

Egon climbed off the back of the snowmobile, removing his helmet as he held out the PKE meter and waved it over the center of the lake. "He's here."

"He's on the lake?" Hale was noticeably concerned. "How far out? Can you tell?"

"Judging by the readings on the meter and the amount of... blood loss on the lake, he's too far out to locate on foot in a timely manner."

A thunderous 'crack' from the center of the lake caught Egon and Hale off guard. A massive fissure snaked its way from the heart of the lake and reached the shore with an impressive pace.

"The ice is too thin." Hale observed keenly. "Something or someone is out there..."

"How long would it take to circle the lake?"

"If you walk around the Southern bend you'll be able to reach the other side fairly quick, but you need to watch your footing around raised tree roots." Hale revved up the snowmobile. "I can circle the much wider Northern bend and meet you on the other side."

"Good, we can look for Peter and his father along the way."

Nodding once Hale took off on the snowmobile around the Northern bend while Egon hastily maneuvered around the Southern bend of the unstable ice coated lake on foot.

The PKE meter screeched loudly as Egon neared the opposite bank of the lake. The display on the meter showed that it had in fact picked up on Peter's biorhythm, but the reading was weak.

"Come on Peter, give me a sign." A loud 'crack' from the lake surface and a heavy 'splash' caught Egon's ear. Turning toward the source of the sounds he was able to see a dark figure floating in the water near the bank of the lake. "Peter?" Rushing to the bank Egon kept his eyes on the object floating in the water. As an arm languidly broke through the choppy surface of the water to clutch onto the ice Egon felt his heart turn as cold as the tundra around him. "Peter!"

Almost entirely unconscious Peter felt a thousand knives piercing his flesh as the lethally cold water swept over his body. Instinctively he tried to swim against the smothering water, but he could only force one arm to move. The rest of his body was too tired, too numb to resist the overwhelming chill that drained the little remaining warmth from his taxed body.

Unable to keep his head above the water Peter submitted to the cold and allowed his body to sink, his arm slipping from the ice and disappearing into the murky depths that consumed the drowning psychologist.

A strong hand burst through the surface of the water and reached down into the dark abyss. The hand wrapped around Peter's arm, just below the wrist, and began pulling the dying man back toward the surface.

"Peter!" Egon called out as he pulled his friend up from the water and partially onto the layer of ice that he had laid down on in order to reach into the water. Using his other hand Egon grabbed onto Peter's belt and hoisted the hypothermic man from the icy lake water. "Peter, talk to me!"

Peter remained silent, his blue tinted lips as stoic as the rest of his body.

The sound of the approaching snowmobile filled the air as Egon dragged Peter out of the water and onto the ice.

"Peter, Peter!" Egon patted his hand against the side of Peter's cold, pale face as he held the unresponsive man in his arms. The sight of Peter's pale, blue complexion was terrifying, even to the seasoned Ghostbuster.

The cut on Peter's forehead had swollen into a severe bump and his lower lip was bruised from being split.

"Don't do this Peter, please, don't give up." Pressing his ear down against Peter's chest Egon listened carefully. It was slow and dangerously quiet but Egon was able to hear the feeble beating of Peter's heart. "Hang on Peter, we're going to get you some help."

Thinking quickly Egon lifted Peter up from the ice and carried him back from the lake and onto the bank just a few yards away. Hale had positioned the snowmobile a safe distance from the bank and was using her radio to contact the search party and to request assistance.

Kneeling down on the snowy bank Egon unzipped Peter's drenched, freezing coat and threw it aside. The red campus hoodie beneath the coat was just as wet and just as cold, but more difficult to remove from Peter's upper body. Tearing the fabric away Egon removed the second layer and finally exposed the white long sleeved shirt beneath, that too was removed.

Slipping off his own winter coat Egon wrapped Peter up in the dry, considerably warmer coat and help him up from the chilly ground in a firm hug. "Come on Peter, don't give up on us now." Egon ran his hands up and down Peter's arms in an attempt to provide some kind of much needed warmth to his frozen friend.

Hale joined Egon at the bank with a thermal blanket she had retrieved from the storage compartment of the snowmobile. "Use this." She wrapped the thermal blanket around Peter's legs and took notice of the horrific laceration on his his left knee. "Dr. Spengler, he's been injured. Look at his leg."

Egon glanced down at Peter's leg where Hale was staring. The massive blood stain reached down from the top of Peter's knee all the way down to his ankle.

"How did he even manage to walk?" Hale questioned as she tightened the thermal blanket around Peter's legs.

"Peter can be quite stubborn."

Barking dogs approached the lake at an impressive speed.

"Dogsled." Hale succinctly explained. "It's a little old fashioned but it's the best way to transport Dr. Venkman from here to the nearest shelter and hospital."

Egon didn't dare question the Deputy's chosen method. Keeping one hand pressed to the side of Peter's neck Egon counted the critically slow pulse beating weakly against his fingertips.

The dogsled rushed over the snow and came to a halt at the behest of their leader. The experienced dog musher knew the drill all too well, as his sled was loaded down with a gurney, several thermal blankets and other emergency medical supplies.

"We better move fast, he's fading." Egon instructed as he and the sled leader worked together to lay Peter down on the sled. "I'll tend to his leg, you two keep him warm."

Hale and the musher wrapped the extra blankets around Peter, covering his entire body to block out any additional cold while attempting to contain as much warmth as possible.

"Let's move him out." The musher ordered as he took his place at the back of the sled. "This will be fast journey, keep up!

With a single masterful signal to the dog team the sled raced off through the forest with Peter safely secured, his life on the line.

"Come on." Hale motioned for Egon to return to the snowmobile with her. "We'll follow as close as possible."

Egon replaced his helmet and climbed onto the back of the snowmobile behind Hale. "I just hope we weren't too late."

The sled rushed through the trees with the strong and loyal dogs barking loudly as they pulled the sled over the snow and between the trees. Clouds of stirred up powdery snow wafted through the air and swirled through the wind.

Peter remained aware of the waking world around him. Darkness, coldness, fear. Unable to protect himself from the blizzard, unable to comprehend the severity of his own injuries and unable to locate his missing father Peter had lost the desire to fight for consciousness.

"There's an emergency medical team waiting for us at the ranger station." Hale yelled out over the loud motor of the snowmobile. "They'll stabilize Dr. Venkman as much as possible before transporting him to the hospital about eight miles into the city."

Egon subconsciously tightened his grip around Hale's waist as his concern for Peter's health mounted, as well as attempting to brace against the insurmountable cold that cut into his flesh now that he was no longer wearing his winter coat.

Lost in the darkness of his own mind Peter was defenseless against the memories from his childhood that came flooding back. The smells of the forest; pine trees, fresh water and untouched earth pulled Peter back to a time where his whole family had spent the day together one Christmas many years ago.

Peter was nine years old, his mother's health had yet to decline and his father had actually stayed home to celebrate the holidays with his family. That Christmas Peter had gotten a new sled as a present from his mother, and his father took the family on a small road trip out to the countryside so Peter could play with the sled all day long. It was a rare day where his whole family was together, laughing and truly happy.

It was the final Christmas that the Venkman spent together before Mrs. Venkman became ill and Mr. Venkman spent most of his time out on the road, leaving Peter and his mother alone too often for comfort.

A lone tear rolled from Peter's eye unnoticed.

"Take it easy," the musher instructed as the emergency medical team met the dogsled outside the ranger station. "he's had a rough night."

The snowmobile with Hale and Egon pulled up beside the ranger station. The duo assisted the medical team as they lifted Peter from the sled and onto the gurney that would help transport him in the back of the ambulance to the hospital.

The head of the medical team, a tall man who had been in the Army as a field medic, took charge of the scene. "Hypothermia, frostbite, anemia..." The medic listed off Peter's external and ailments sternly. "dehydration, probable congestion and torn ligament in the left knee. We'll start an IV of warm saline to replenish his fluids and to treat the hypothermia."

Egon shook his head solemnly as he watched his very pale and unnervingly still friend being tended to by the medical team. A small bandage was wrapped around Peter's forehead while a thicker pressure bandage was wrapped expertly around his knee.

"Sir?" The head medic addressed Egon, taking note of the tall physicist's own disheveled appearance as he inserted the needle of the IV into Peter's right arm. "You're acquainted with this man, correct?"

"Yes, he's my friend, like a brother."

"Please provide as much medical history as possible. It's normally against protocol but I'd like you to accompany me in the back of the ambulance during transport."

"Of course."

Moving the gurney into the rear of the ambulance Egon took a seat on the bench beside Peter while the medic took his place on the opposite bench on the other side.

The medic knocked on the side of the ambulance twice indicating that everything was set for transport. Hale shut one door and peeked her head in the back. "I'll meet you down at the hospital, I have to deliver my report to the sheriff." The second door shut and the ambulance pulled away.

Nervously Egon reached out his hand and rested it lightly on Peter's arm on top of the protective thermal blanket, careful not to jostle his friend or let his icy cold hands adversely affect Peter's already frail condition.

"You'll be fine Peter, I'm here with you." Egon spoke confidently, hoping his words could somehow provide comfort and strength to the down psychologist. "As soon as you're strong enough we'll go back home to where it's safe."

The medic kept his cool, expertly trained composure as he examined the bump on Peter's head. "Must've taken some real initiative to get up and walk as far as he did with a head injury like this."

"Is it serious?" Egon asked inquisitively as the medic gently lifted Peter's eyelids to check his pupillary response.

"His pupils are sluggish, but there's no alarming dilation or constriction." Pocketing the penlight the medic politely offered his hand. "For the record my name is Trevor James."

"Dr. Egon Spengler." Egon reciprocated the introductory handshake.

"Doctor?"

"Physics, not medicine."

"I see. Has your friend suffered from any neurological conditions in the past that I should be aware of?"

"No, he's always been very healthy."

"Good. When it comes to cases of severe hypothermia a strong physical fortitude is often the deciding factor between full recovery and lasting injury."

James gently placed a temperature probe into Peter's ear to check his current body temperature. "He's holding at ninety-three degrees. You must've pulled him out of the water very quickly."

Egon tried not to think about the sight of pulling his friend from the freezing water.

"And from the look of your hand you didn't hesitate."

"Pardon?" Egon looked down at his hands, comparing his left to his right. His the skin on his right hand was very blue and reached up his forearm to his elbow. His fingertips were red with stinging frostbite. "I hadn't noticed."

"Here." James wrapped Egon's hand in a smaller thermal blanket. "Be sure to let a doctor examine your hand once we arrive at the hospital."

"Thank you."

James took out his stethoscope and placed it over Peter's chest, listening very carefully to the slow beating of his heart and even slower respiration. "His heart sounds strong, but his heart rate needs to increase. Even breath sounds on the left and the right, congestion building in both lungs." Placing an oxygen mask over Peter's face the duo watched as a very thin veil of fog coated the interior of the plastic as Peter's escaping breaths were very weak and unnaturally cold.

"What about his knee?" Egon remembered the bloody trail leading across the lake. That much blood loss could only be the result of a severe injury.

James checked the bloodied limb under the blanket. "External damage to the epidermal tissues indicate a tearing motion. Most likely the result of being hit by debris during the crash or from a significant fall onto something jagged." Wrapping the blood pressure cuff around Peter's left arm James pumped up the device, studying the display on the gauge. "His B.P. is low. He'll need a transfusion."

Bowing his head Egon stared intently as Peter's pale virtually lifeless face. Flecks of ice had formed on strands of his hair and were now melting in the heat of the ambulance. His lips were still blue and bruised and his entire body was like a block of ice just waiting to be shattered.

"We're almost there." James reassured Egon sincerely. "These are some of the best doctors in the entire country, let alone the state. They'll take good care of your friend."

"I'm sure they will." Egon lifted his gaze and looked toward James for an answer. "Do you know anything about the search for his father, Charlie Venkman?"

James' face dropped and he looked away sadly. "Unfortunately, yes."

Egon returned his focus to Peter. "I knew Hale was keeping something from me. I had hoped it wasn't that."

"I'm sorry. If you'd like to know what happened, I'll tell you after we get your friend situated in the hospital."

At a rare loss for words Egon could only nod at favor of the offer. As much as it pained him Egon needed to know what happened and Peter deserved to know everything about his father's final moments.

The ambulance slowed and backed up toward the admittance bay of the hospital. The doors were pulled open as two orderlies lowered the gurney down from the rear of the ambulance and wheeled it inside. Three doctors and two nurses hovered over Peter as he disappeared through the doors of the hospital and into an examination room for treatment.

"Come on." James stepped down from the back of the ambulance. "You need to have your hand treated."

"I also need to make a phone call." Egon hopped down out of the ambulance and allowed the kind medic to escort him inside. "I just wish I didn't have to."

* * *

Back at the firehouse it was nearly seven in the morning and neither Ray or Winston could sleep all through the night knowing that Peter was lost in Alaska, and knowing that Egon was risking himself to try and find him. It felt empty inside the old brick building and all too quiet without Peter watching horror movies all night long or Egon building something in his lab.

Residing to the couch in the rec room Ray caught up on some reading while Winston watched the early morning news report.

"Man, I never knew how quiet it could get in this place." Winston complained as he rested his head against the couch cushion behind him. "Never thought I'd miss hearing tools being dropped or Peter boasting about his date life."

"Same here." Ray closed his book and looked at the clock on the wall. "It's not even time for Janine to clock in, yet. This day is going to be LONG."

The phone on Janine's desk down on the first floor began to ring.

"I'll get it!" Ray and Winston blurted in chorus as they raced down the stairs and over to the empty desk. Winston made it to the phone first and picked it up on the third ring. "Hello? Egon! Hey, good to hear your voice man!"

"Thank God, I was worried he'd never call." Ray muttered.

"Yeah, he's right here. What's going on?" Winston sat on the edge of the desk as he listened to every word Egon spoke. "You found Peter! Is he alright?"

Ray held his breath as he leaned in to try to listen to the call.

"But he'll be okay, right?" Winston tried to sound as optimistic as possible. "Good to hear, I'm sure he'll be- Say what again?" His eyes became heavy with emotion and his posture slouched down. "Oh no, aw man. That's terrible!"

Ray couldn't hear what was being said but knew from Winston's reaction that whatever had happened was absolutely detrimental.

"Yeah, I'll let Janine know. We'll take care of everything here, you just take care of Peter and get back here as soon as you can. And, uh, make sure Peter knows we're all here for him. Talk to you soon." Winston slowly hung up and phone and ran his hand over his face.

"Winston, what happened? What's wrong with Peter?" Ray asked as he sat down on the desk beside his friend.

"Peter... Well, they found him out in the middle of the tundra and he was in rough shape. He was banged up when his plane went down and is suffering from hypothermia and frostbite and all kinds of other problems."

"But... But he's going to be okay, right? Egon is out there with him."

"Yeah, Peter is in the hospital right now getting treatment and the doctors expect him to make a slow, but full recovery."

"And his dad?"

"That's the thing Ray," Winston shook his head with sympathetic grief. "his dad... His dad didn't make it."

"What?!" Ray was floored by the news. "What happened to Charlie?"

"According to the search party who found his bod-" Winston paused and corrected himself, refusing to speak as though Charlie Venkman was merely an object rather than a person. "when the search party found Charlie he was still aboard the ship. He was the only one who didn't make it out because he chose to stay behind and help everyone else escape."

"How... Do they know what... You know, how he 'went'?"

"There was an explosion in the lower deck. They think the explosion... He was gone before he went under the water. He didn't suffer."

Ray rubbed his hand through his hair. "How's Peter taking it?"

"He doesn't know, he's unconscious. Egon said he'll break the news to him when the time is right. Until then... Egon wants us to make sure Charlie's final wishes are fulfilled."

"We can do that." Ray sighed and let his hand fall from the back of his neck and onto his lap. "It's the very least we can do."

* * *

Egon quietly sat in the small waiting room with his frostbitten hand freshly bandaged. The phone call was incredibly painful but he knew greater pain was just waiting around the corner. "How am I going to tell Peter? He'll be heartbroken."

"Dr. Spengler?" Deputy Hale had arrived at the hospital and took a seat beside him. "How is Dr. Venkman? I understand he's being treated for his hypothermia and the frostbite."

"Yes, he's being treated with warmed saline and heavy blankets." Egon looked down at his wrapped hand and flexed the appendage into a tight fist. "There was no irreparable damage to his knee but he will require crutches until the sutures can be removed."

"How about you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fairing much better than Peter." Egon quipped as he looked over at Hale. "When you received a call over your radio when we discovered the downed plane, it was revolving around Charlie Venkman, wasn't it?"

Hale nodded once. "Yes. The search party found him but there was nothing that could be done."

"Why didn't you inform me when the call came in?"

"Because I didn't want to shake your faith in locating Dr. Venkman."

"Hm, I see." Egon appreciated her logical decision. "I can gather from your actions that it's not uncommon to find someone after it's too late to save them."

"Unfortunately, yes. The harsh cold makes search and rescue as dangerous as it is desperate, especially when it involves any body of water." Hale sighed heavily. "Preparations will be made to transport Charles Venkman back to New York City. He'll be released as soon as our coroner... Well, you know."

"Thank you for all your help." Egon forced a change in subject manner. "And extend my thanks to Sheriff Grant, I appreciate all of his help."

"I will." Hale recognized the hint and knew that Egon needed some time alone after everything he had been through. "When Dr. Venkman wakes up please let him know that we're all thinking about him."

As Hale left the waiting room a nurse approached Egon softly. "Dr. Spengler?"

"Yes?" Egon rose from his chair expectantly.

"Dr. Venkman has been moved into recovery, Dr. Tolan is with him right now. Would you like to see him?"

"Yes, please."

"Right this way."

* * *

Ray informed Janine of the situation as delicately as he could. The receptionist was always fiery but that didn't mean she didn't have a soft spot in her heart for the Ghostbusters and their families. Dabbing at her teary eye with a tissue she listened as Ray told her everything that had happened out in Alaska.

"Poor Dr. Venkman!" Janine wept openly as she tried to dry her streaming tears. "I know his father wasn't always there for him but he was still a nice man! He was always so proud of Peter!"

"It'll be okay Janine." Ray soothed. "Just let it all out. We're all upset."

"When is Dr. Venkman coming home?"

"We're not sure yet. Egon will call us when they're on their way back."

"Okay," Janine tossed aside the used tissue and took in a deep breath. "what do you need me to do?"

Ray smiled and took Janine's hand in his. "Help me and Winston get everything arranged in Charlie's memory. Egon will take care of Peter."

* * *

Egon sat beside Peter's bed in the very warm and secure hospital room. It appeared as though Peter was sleeping peacefully in the bed. Peter was secured under multiple thick blankets and had an another IV of warm saline hooked into his arm. His face was still pale but had traded the shade of sickly pale blue for a faint pink.

Bandages around his hands, fingers, feet and toes concealed the severe frostbite that could cause permanent damage to his extremities without proper treatment.

An oxygen mask was placed over his nose and mouth to assist with his breathing. Pneumonia had set in due to his chronic exposure to the cold and from inhaling a small amount of icy lake water. Each breath he took sounded ragged and labored.

The subtle beeping of the cardiac monitor indicated a healthier heart rate, stable heart rate that resonated through the room.

Placing his hand down on Peter's arm Egon was relieved to feel warm flesh beneath his fingertips as opposed to cold.

"As much as I want to see you awake and hear you speaking to me, I kind of hope you'll stay asleep so I don't have tell you the truth." Egon immediately felt ashamed of what he said and apologized. "I shouldn't have said that, guess it's a weakness of character. Peter, take as much time as you need to heal. When you wake up I'll be right here by your side."

Three days passed by with Peter remaining unconscious in the bed and Egon sitting vigil at his side. Egon made sure to keep in contact with the firehouse by calling every morning and checking in with his colleagues. Ray, Winston and Janine had taken up the responsibility of tending to the arrangements for Charlie Venkman, keeping with the Venkman family wishes. The funeral would be held once Peter was back in the city.

Egon had been dozing lightly in the chair beside Peter's bed when a small moan caught his ear. "Peter?" Egon stood beside the bed and gently rested his hand on Peter's chest. "Can you hear me?"

Peter's head turned slightly against the pillow as he slowly regained consciousness.

"Open your Peter. It's me."

Peter's eyelids fluttered for a moment before finally opening fully. His dark green eyes were glazed over but somehow still alert. "E... Egon." His hoarse voice was barely above a whisper. He coughed violently as the simple act of speaking was too strenuous on his healing body and congested lungs.

"Take it easy, I'm right here." Egon pressed down on Peter's chest reassuringly. "Breathe slowly, let the oxygen mask help you."

The loud coughing fit brought Dr. Tolan, Peter's current physician, into the room. "Dr Venkman," the young doctor greeted his patient cheerfully. "it's nice to finally see you awake."

Peter didn't recognize the man, his teary eyes displaying his immense confusion. Dr. Tolan was a black man in his late twenties, very tall, had short dark hair and pale brown eyes. His bright smile eased the tension in the room as the kind doctor checked the cardiac monitor attached to Peter's chest.

"By all accounts you're well on your way to a full recovery Dr. Venkman." Dr. Tolan took a small penlight from his coat's breast pocket and used it to check Peter's eyes. "My name is Dr. Carl Tolan, I've been treating you over the past three days."

Peter gave Dr. Tolan an appreciative smile through the oxygen mask.

"Pupils look good." Dr. Tolan held the penlight upright between his two forefingers. "Follow the pen with your eyes, don't move your head."

Egon watched curiously as Peter managed to perfectly track the penlight and follow instructions flawlessly.

"Excellent." Dr. Tolan replaced the light to his pocket. "Now, do you know where you are?"

Peter thought for a moment and swallowed weakly. "H-hospital."

"Correct. Do you know which state you're currently in?"

"Ala..." He coughed again and choked on his words. "Alaska."

"Correct again. And do you know who this man is?" Dr. Tolan indicated to Egon.

"My... friend."

Egon patted his hand on Peter's chest.

"Dr. Venkman I'm going to schedule a chest x-ray to check your progress. You're suffering from pneumonia, but recovering nicely from hypothermia and frostbite. Your knee also took quite a hit, but it too will heal with little difficulty in due time."

"Th-thank you." Peter was speaking as softly as possible to not accidentally provoke another cough fit.

Egon nodded as Dr. Tolan took his leave of the room.

"Peter, how do you feel?"

Glassy green eyes focused weakly on Egon's face as Peter lifted one hand and flashed a thumb's up.

"Just so you know Ray, Winston and Janine are expecting you home very soon. Let's not disappoint them."

"Egon," Peter focused intently on speaking calmly. "why are you here?"

"Because you are."

"Are you mad?"

"Mad? Because you rushed off in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye? No." Egon's words were sincere and his tone kind. "I was a little at first, but I know everything you do has a purpose. I'm just glad you're safe."

"I'm sorry. But I needed to find my dad." Peter closed his eyes as unshed tears welled up. "I still need to find him. I can't leave without him."

"Peter, about your dad..."

"Egon, don't be upset with me." Peter pressed the matter as guilt for leaving without confiding in his best friends began to ache at him. "But I can't go back home until I find my dad. Would you... stay with me? Help me find him?"

"Of course." Egon felt a twinge of dread in his heart. He pulled his hand from Peter's chest and rested it on his arm. "We're friends. We look out for each other."

"Egon?" Peter could feel the tension as Egon's own guilt began to rise up. "What's wrong?"

Taking a deep breath Egon steeled his nerves. In this moment he had to be strong for Peter's sake. "Your father has been found."

"What?" Peter was confused. If his father had been found then why wasn't he in the hospital, why wasn't he there? "But... But where's my dad? Where is he?"

Egon swallowed nervously. "I don't know how to tell you this, but Peter, your father..." Tightening his grip on Peter's arm Egon braced himself for the heartbreak that his friend was about to endure. "your father... he didn't make it off the ship."

"What?" Peter's heart skipped a beat. "Then... he's..."

"He's gone." Egon explained as humanely as possible. "Your father has... passed away."

Peter's breath hitched in his chest as the truth sank in like a crushing lead weight.

"I'm sorry Peter, I'm so, so sorry!" Egon leaned over his friend to offer some form of support. "There was nothing anyone could do, he didn't suffer."

Tears began to roll down Peter's face the harsh reality set in. "He's... gone. He's really gone! First mom, now dad. I'm... I'm an orphan. Alone in this world."

"Peter, look at me." Egon urged compassionately. "You're many things but you're NOT alone, don't even think that. I'm here for you, and so is Ray and Winston and Janine. We're your family and we have been for years, you're like a brother to me."

Peter snapped his eyes shut as the yearning to cry became too overwhelming for the normally in control, reticent psychologist. Pressing his hand to his face tears streamed from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Peter began shuddering with each violent sob that racked his still recovering body. "I can't take this!" Peter confessed openly feeling completely weak, if not vulnerable. "I don't want to be alone!"

"You're not!" Egon wrapped his strong arms around Peter and gave him a tight hug. "Just as I said before, you're like a brother to me. You will never be alone."

It was unlike Egon to hug anyone as the display of emotion simply wasn't a part of his nature; the gesture was just as out of character as Peter admitting defeat.

The road to recovery was going to be long and difficult, but at least Peter knew he wouldn't have to walk the road alone.

* * *

Ray, Winston and Janine were anxiously waiting together at the gate terminal for the return of their colleagues. Peter had left Alaska a full week prior without a word, it had been six days since Egon went to Alaska after him. Five days with half of the team gone made working at the firehouse not only more laborious but boring. The building felt completely vacated without Peter cracking jokes or Egon working on equipment.

The arrangements for the funeral had been taken care of courtesy of Janine, Ray and Winston volunteering on Peter's behalf. The somber event was set to take place the following day which filled the team with an odd mixture of joy for their reunion and dread for the upcoming event they'd be attending together.

"Which flight are they on again?" Winston asked as an arriving plane taxied along the airstrip.

Janine took a slip of paper from her purse with the flight information written down. "According to this, it's that one right there!" She pointed at the newly arrived plane.

"Finally!" Ray exclaimed excitedly. "I know it's a long flight from Alaska to New York, but I just hate waiting for friends."

"I know what you mean." Winston agreed. "Let's go meet them right at the gate."

"Right behind ya'!"

Ray and Janine followed as Winston made a beeline for the gate keeping his eye out for Peter and Egon.

A trail of passengers wove down from the tunnel and passed through the gate. Everyone looked either tired or sick from their extensive travel. The final two passengers from the plane walked slowly through the gate, Peter leaning on Egon's arm while balancing on a cane from his knee injury.

Peter still looked pale save for the red blemishes over his frostbitten face and fingertips. His posture was slouched, each step he took heavy and cumbersome. Egon didn't look much better. He too was very tired, his right hand no longer wrapped in bandages which exposed the reddened skin on his fingers.

"Peter!" Winston wrapped his arm around the injured man's shoulder as he limped through the gate with Egon. "So glad to have you back home."

"It's nice to be back, Z." Peter forced a grin to his exhausted face.

Ray gave Peter a strong hug before reaching an arm out toward Egon. "I'm glad everyone is together again."

Janine walked up to Peter and gave him a hug as soon as Ray let him go. Giving Peter a quick kiss on the cheek she whispered discreetly into his ear. "Thank God you're safe."

Peter wrapped his arm around her and gave her a tight hug. "Thanks, I just... I just want to go home."

Winston took Egon's place and let Peter lean against him. "The car's out front."

Ray volunteered to help Egon gather their luggage while Winston helped Peter make it out to Ecto-1 parked outside the airport. Janine accompanied Ray and Egon, clinging lightly to Egon's arm as the trio wandered over to baggage claim.

"So how's Peter holding up?" Ray inquired gingerly.

"About as well as one could hope." Egon looked at tired as Peter felt. "I just don't know how he'll handle identifying his own father's body."

"It wasn't easy for me or my siblings." Ray absentmindedly revealed.

Egon gave Ray an odd look. "Wait, you were all minors, still young kids when your parents passed away. You were required to partake in such a 'mature' endeavor?"

"Yeah," Ray's face flushed with the dark memory. "my brother, being the oldest, was asked to do it but he didn't want to go in alone. So me and my sister went with him."

"I had no idea you were subjected to something so... upsetting at such a young age."

"It was also the last time I ever hugged my siblings. Right after the funeral we all grew apart and went our separate ways."

Janine reached out and took Ray's hand. "I knew you weren't close to your siblings, but I didn't know why."

"Sometimes the loss of a loved one is enough to shatter your world, everyone you were once close to pushes you away." Ray explained. "And then there are times when the loss of a loved one can bring everyone closer together. Peter taught me that when I told him about my parents in college. It really helped me to move on with my life and focus on the positives."

"Let's just hope Peter doesn't try to push us away." Janine worried as Ray walked over to the baggage carousel.

"He won't." Egon told her firmly. "We won't let him."

Winston helped Peter to sit down in the back of the iconic hearse, taking his cane and setting it down on the floor of the vehicle. Peter was already fatigued and beginning to sweat a little.

"You comfortable?" Winston asked as he sat in the jump seat in the back across from Peter.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks." Peter was still very sick but he couldn't stand being in the hospital any longer. Egon convinced the doctors that he'd take care of Peter and that being back home would be the best thing for the ill man. "I think my medicine wore off."

"I could swing by the drug store for you if you want."

"No, it's fine. Egon has everything I need."

"He told us you had contracted pneumonia. I had it once as a kid, I never felt so sick before or since."

"Between the pneumonia and the bum knee I think this is the worst I have ever felt."

"Well as soon as everyone gets back we'll take you home. You look like you could use a good night's sleep."

"You have no idea..."

Ray, Egon and Janine exited the airport with the luggage in tow. Ray hefted the bags into the rear compartment while Winston took his seat behind the wheel. Egon and Janine joined Peter in the back so Ray could ride up front.

"Are we ready to go?" Winston asked as he pulled away from the airport.

"Yeah," Peter confirmed. "let's go home."

That night at the firehouse everyone gathered together in the rec room just to be in each other's company. Egon was quietly observing his friends from the couch with Janine at his side. Winston and Ray were going out of their way to help Peter get as comfortable as possible, doing everything they could think of to help the sick and injured man move about the firehouse and rest in the bunk room.

Sitting at the small table in the kitchen Peter stared blankly at the legal documentation he'd have to look over regarding his recently deceased father. Next to the documents was a large pad of blank paper and a pen sitting idly. Peter had planned on writing his father's eulogy, but every time he tried to pen down his feelings and memories he failed to find the right words.

"So..." Peter bowed his head sadly, breaking the awkward silence in the process. "tomorrow is the 'big day'. Guys, I really appreciate everything you've been doing for me."

"Don't sweat it man," Winston crossed the room and joined Peter at the table. "you would've done the same for any of us."

Peter looked up at Winston, his tired red eyes making the green in his irises unnaturally bright. "I just wish no one had to do anything for me, especially this."

"It'll be okay, Peter." Ray walked over to the table and put his hand on Peter's shoulder as a gesture of friendship. It was evident through the contact that Peter was still running a fever. "No one wants to go through this, I can speak from experience. But you will get through this, I promise."

Peter reached up and put his hand over top Ray's. "Thanks for putting up with me."

"We're not 'putting up' with you Peter!" Ray sounded a little offended. "You're our friend and that's what we do, we help each other."

"He's right." Winston agreed fully. "Why don't you get some rest? You're still sick, we don't want you to have to check back into the hospital."

Ray patted Peter's shoulder. "Good idea, come with me." Taking Peter's arm Ray helped his friend limp into the adjoined bunk room. "Just focus on taking care of yourself for now."

Egon and Janine watched as Peter and Ray disappeared into the bunk room. "He'll be fine." Egon reassured both Janine and Winston. "He's as strong as he is stubborn, and as we all know Peter is the most stubborn man alive."

* * *

 

The morning of the funeral Peter was the first awake, or perhaps he never slept the night before. Sitting on the edge of his bed he watched his friends sleeping peacefully through the sunrise. It seemed so long ago since he last slept in his own bed and even longer since he felt like he was home. It was an odd feeling knowing that he'd be attending his father's funeral that day. When his mother passed away he remembered his father, his only surviving family, staying home with him every day for almost a month before returning to the road, but now he had no family to look after him.

"I hate to wake you guys, but... it's time." Peter whispered pitifully. He didn't want to wake his sleeping friends just so they could go with him to a funeral. "Maybe I should just go alone."

"Oh no you don't." Janine's voice responded softly from the door frame. "These guys are your friends, they're not going to let you go through something like this alone. And neither am I."

"Janine, what are you doing here so early?"

"Early? I never left." Janine put her hands on her hips defiantly. "You guys seriously need to get a new couch. Anyway, I just put some coffee on to brew. I'll help you to the kitchen."

"I can make it." Peter declined her help. "Will you wake the guys? I need to work on the eulogy. I couldn't bring myself to write it last night."

"Of course. Do what you need to do."

Limping into the kitchen Peter sat down at the small table and stared at the blank pad of paper. "Do what I need to do. Right, too bad I don't know what that is."

An hour passed and Peter found himself uncontrollably inscribing angry word after anger word on the pad of paper. What was once a blank slate was now covered in spite.

Egon, Ray, Winston and Janine had all appropriately dressed in black for the occasion. A nice black suit had been rented for Peter on behalf of Janine, it was hanging in place in his locker on the ground floor.

"Hey man," Winston addressed Peter as gently as possible. "it's time. As soon as you're ready we'll head out to the funeral home."

"Right, thanks." Peter was reluctant leave the scribbled paper behind. "I'll go get ready."

"Hold it, just go into the washroom and I'll bring you the suit so you don't have to walk downstairs."

"I have a suit?"

"Yeah, Janine really took care of everything."

"Tell her I said 'thanks'."

"Sure. I'll be right back."

Peter limped into the bathroom and stared at his pale complexion in the mirror. Dark circles under his eyes exposed to the fatigue he was trying to hide and his poor posture indicated that he was still feeling unwell. Rough stubble had grown over his chin and jawline making him look older than his age. Shaving was out of the question as the painful frostbite on his face was too tender to risk exposing to a razor.

"Here." Winston hung the suit up on the shower curtain rod. "Take your time. We'll be outside in Janine's car."

It went without saying that attending the funeral together in Ecto-1 could be seen as wildly tasteless. Janine's car was small but it could carry five passengers just fine.

Egon and Ray stood with Janine beside her car in the rear parking lot of the firehouse. All three had been uncommonly quiet that morning. It was difficult to strike up a casual conversation when one of their own was enduring such heartache as the loss of a family member.

Winston remained inside the firehouse to help Peter get around. It was almost haunting how quiet and heavy the air felt as the group gathered for the dismally necessary event.

With cane in hand Peter limped down the staircase, his hair slightly messy, his face unshaven and the suit was a little loose, looking baggy over his lean form. All things considered no one would blame Peter for his unkempt appearance.

"Ready?" Winston asked grimly.

"Yeah..." Peter met Winston at the bottom of the staircase. "We better get moving."

The funeral home was unexpectedly empty. It seemed only the employees of the funeral home were currently in attendance.

Ray, Winston and Janine were the first to step inside and offer their respect. Egon waited for Peter, who was standing statuesque by the car.

"Peter?" Egon called his friend's name.

"Egon... I don't think I can go inside."

"Do what you think is right, but also consider the need for proper closure. I know I regret not going my childhood friend's funeral. I had known him for almost nine years and when he died I lived in denial for so long that it hindered my emotional growth. I don't want to see you live out the rest of your days with regret eating away at you."

"I know." Peter pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket. "I tried to write his eulogy, but instead I just made an angry list of all the times he... All the times he disappointed me."

Egon put his hand over the paper. "Peter, the fact that you're here means you cared about your father and that you loved him. Anger is apart of the five stages of grief."

"And my anger toward him is all that's left. Egon, I don't want to be angry anymore."

"Then forgive him, Peter." Egon retracted his hand from the paper. "And forgive yourself."

"I'll... I'll try."

Egon wrapped his arm around Peter's shoulders and escorted him into the funeral home. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No." Peter shook his head. "You may be an honorary brother, but he was my father. I have to do this alone."

"Okay."

The director was patiently waiting to greet the mourners and offer his condolences near the entryway. Upon seeing Peter the director approached the psychologist and shook his hand with nothing but the utmost respect.

"I'm sorry for your loss, son." The sympathetic director put his other hand on Peter's shoulder. "I must ask that a family member please come with me to properly identify your father. If you're willing to do so..."

"Yes." Peter nodded once and let his hand fall limp from the director's. "I'm ready."

"Come this way." The director escorted Peter to the secondary room where his father's coffin was currently residing. Unlatching the closed lid the director lifted it open slightly. "Please."

Peter peeked inside the opened coffin and stifled a sob upon seeing his father's peaceful face.

"That's all I need." The director lightly shut the lid. "If you'll-"

"Wait," Peter composed himself. "can I have a minute alone?"

"Of course, take all the time you need." The director excused himself and left Peter alone with his father in the isolated room. "I'll see to it that no one disturbs you."

Forcing himself to approach the coffin Peter stood tall and placed his hand on the lid. "I'm sorry. I promised I wouldn't leave Alaska until I found you. I failed." Taking in a deep breath he let the tears freely fall from his eyes. "Then again, we're not exactly strangers to disappointment, are we?"

Reaching back into his pocket Peter pulled out the scribbled paper and held it tightly in his fist.

"I wanted to write something to honor your memory... nothing came to mind." Peter's hands began to tremble. "The only way I can get past this anger is by finally telling you everything that I've felt since I was a small child."

Unfolding the paper Peter began reading his scrawled out words. "I hate that when I was a kid you never there. I hate that when mom got sick you left me alone to take care of her. I hate then when mom died you left me alone for days, sometimes even weeks at a time..." He trailed off as his emotional pain became too great. "I was just a kid! I was your kid! How could you just leave me behind like that? I hate that whenever I did see you it was because you had just played some poor person as a fool or you tried to get me to be a pawn in your little schemes! I hate that when I graduated from college you couldn't even be bothered to see me or call to say you were proud of me. I hate that no matter what I did it wasn't good enough in your eyes..."

Pulling his hand from the coffin he wrapped his arm around himself to try and steel his nerves long enough to continue. "Because of the way you treated me I couldn't trust anyone, not even my own friends for the first three years since I've known them. They've taken better care of me in the short five years since I've met them than you had my entire life! I hate that because of the way you treated me I... I can't bring myself to open up to my friends, my brothers, because you made me feel so unimportant, so insignificant."

Replacing his hand on the coffin lid Peter looked to the ceiling as he seethed with the long repressed anger that had nearly poisoned his heart.

"I know what you did in Alaska. I know the only reason we're even here is because you gave up your life to help others. And I'm angry at that, too. You'd lay down your life for complete strangers but you couldn't spend time with your only son... Well Dad, I'm going to do something for both of our sake. I'm going to forgive you."

Peter bowed his head and rested it against the coffin. "I forgive you for neglecting me, and I forgive myself for being so angry. I'm doing this not because you deserve it, but because I need to move on with my life. I can't hold onto this resentment anymore, it's toxic."

Lifting his head from the coffin he stood up straight and cleared his throat. As he turned to leave he remembered the paper in his hand, the paper that contained every ounce of anger he had poured forth from early childhood was penned on that single piece of paper.

With a heavy sigh Peter unlatched the lid of the coffin and slid paper inside. All of his anger would be laid to rest alongside his father.

"Thank you, for life. And thank you for your sense of humor. I do love you. Limping toward the large doors that connected the side room to the main room Peter paused for one final moment with his father. "Goodbye."

The funeral service was small. Peter, Egon, Ray, Winston, Janine and Louis Tully mourned the loss of Charlie Venkman while supporting Peter himself during the trying time. The other mourners, who were few and far between, were all friends of Charlie of whom he met while on the road. None of the faces looked familiar to Peter.

As the service concluded the Ghostbusters all returned to the firehouse to process their grief.

Peter's already frail health had taken a turn for the worse. As he laid in his bed in the bunk room feeling absolutely wretched from the linger pneumonia Egon stayed at his side to keep him company. Ray and Winston continuously checked in on their sick friend, bringing him blankets, medicine, food and books to read. Janine and Louis had left for the rest of the afternoon to deal with the paperwork on Peter's behalf.

"Thanks for being here Egon." Peter sighed deeply. "I'm sure you're sick of dealing with me, but I really need some company right now."

"How many times do I have to remind you that you're my friend and taking care of you is not a burden?" Egon set aside the particle physics textbook he had been reading and turned to look at Peter with a somewhat amused look on his face.

"At least two more times." Peter joked with a sly grin on his face. "You know, I never did thank you."

"For what?"

Peter propped himself upright on his elbows to try and keep eye level with Egon. "You saved my life."

"Peter," Egon gave Peter a strange look as if he had revealed a deep dark secret. "if I was in a dangerous situation I know you'd be watching my back. It's what we do."

"I don't mean that, Spengz. I don't just mean rushing off to Alaska and pulling my sorry butt out of the water, I mean you gave me the chance to redeem myself. You all did: you, Ray, Winston, Janine... No one had ever done that for me before."

"I don't understand."

"Listen, I admit that I can be stubborn and that I can be a short-tempered jerk sometimes, but you never once held it against me. You always gave me the benefit of the doubt and let me atone for my actions." A unexpected cough caught him off guard, he pressed a hand to his chest as the fit wracked his body.

Egon handed Peter a glass of water from the side table and patiently waited for Peter to calm himself. "Don't fight it, just ride it out."

"Thanks." Peter carefully sipped the water before continuing. "Egon, you and everyone here have all helped me to become a better person. You guys never gave up on me and never made me feel like failure. That's something my father never did for me, and now he never will."

"You're a good person Peter, give yourself some credit."

"I have." Peter closed his eyes as he laid back and pressed his head back down into his pillow. "Today I finally let go of all the festering hatred that held me back. I wouldn't have been able to let go if I didn't have you guys with me, watching my back and helping me move on." Closing his eyes he began to drift off to sleep. "For the first time in my life I actually feel... wanted."

"You have no idea." Egon turned off the lamp beside the bed as Peter's breathing evened out in his slumber. Draping the heavy quilt Ray brought from home over Peter's sleeping form Egon returned to his own bed to get some rest. "Welcome home."

**-The End**


End file.
